New Beginnings
by Fenderlove
Summary: Loki deals with the aftermath of his actions on Midgard. WARNING- Contains age regression.
1. Chapter 1

_New Beginnings_

Captivity was not what Loki had expected upon being returned to Asgard, shackled, gagged, and unable to wield his powers. In truth, he had expected death or some sort of physical punishment. However, as he was pushed down to his knees in front of Odin's throne by Thor's hand, Loki was surprised to hear the All-Father commanding Thor to take him to the dungeons. The tone of Odin's voice was firm and angry, but it was not filled with the loathing as the fallen god had anticipated.

Loki refused to look at Odin directly, refused to acknowledge how desperately a part of his heart, not hardened by his hatred, still wanted his adoptive father's acceptance. Had any of Loki's dealings been worth it? He had been made a pawn of something far larger than himself, led by his own ego and evil intentions. Dragged to his feet and pulled along by his brother, the god of mischief did glance up to see the eyes of Frigga watching him. Her brows were furrowed, and, though she tried to appear impassive, her expression was awash in concern, fear, anger, and sadness. Which emotion that most consumed her, Loki could not guess. Loki could take the spurn of all of the nine realms, but he found himself burdened with unwanted feelings at the thought of his adoptive mother's disappointment. He turned his face away from her, hoping Thor would take no notice of the tremor that ran through his body as he was led into the depths of the castle.

The guards were waiting at an unlocked cell as Thor continued to pull Loki through the corridors by his arm. After being pushed inside, Loki watched in disbelief as Thor uncuffed his hands. They stood there for a moment in silence. The cell was not very large, but it was cleaner than Loki had imagined. The cot on the far wall was narrow but was covered by several blankets. There was a pitcher of water and a bowl on the floor near the door. Loki wondered if all the cells in the dungeon appeared this way or just his.

"Here, Brother," Thor picked up a neat pile of fabric from the bed. "You'll need to change into these."

With a raised eyebrow, Loki pointed to the muzzle covering his jaw.

Thor shook his head, "No, you will be keeping that on for the time being."

Reaching out a hand, Thor began trying to remove Loki's leather mantle. He had successfully unbuckled the main strap holding the shoulder-guards in place and tugged it off one shoulder before Loki backed away.

Thor responded by taking a firmer grip on one of Loki's arms and yanking off his brother's mantle with his free hand, "Brother, I am not going to hurt thee."

Loki made a rather annoyed sound beneath his gag. Thor ignored his brother's annoyance and tossed the garment aside.

As Thor began unbuckling the many straps and belts over Loki's doublet, the god of thunder smiled, slightly bemused, "Honestly, Brother, how can you stand all these trappings?"

Bristling at being manhandled, Loki smacked Thor's hands away from his belts. The guards moved forward into the room, hands upon their weapons, but Thor stopped them.

"There is no need for concern," he said to them. "My brother has only recently been prone to tantrums."

"That is not exactly true," Frigga's voice carried from the corridor as the guards moved aside to let her pass into the cell. "When Loki was a baby and did not get what he wished immediately, he would sometimes cry so loud and for so long that every flower in the garden would wilt."

Loki felt his face flush hotly as he struggled to get away from Thor. He had just brought untold havoc and chaos upon Midgard, but Frigga's words were the thing that brought him shame?

Frigga put her hand on Thor's arm to still him, "Of course, _your_ tantrums were felt even by the mortals."

Thor laughed, "Well, I would think that that might have been expected, and I doubt a little thunder from an infant god hurt anyone."

Gently situating herself between the brothers, Frigga put her hands on Loki's waist, removing the slender straps that went over his legs and the golden gauntlets from his arms. For his part, Loki stood mostly still. Deciding that he should assist in some way instead of standing mute and useless, he unlaced his doublet with its criss-crossing layers of leather and plating. After letting the doublet slide down his arms, Loki lifted his breastplate over his head, letting Thor place it on top of his other garments on the cot. Their mother mused over the number of layers her youngest son had managed to wrap around his slender frame, as Loki removed his leather chausses, spats, and boots. Frigga took each of Loki's large yet delicate hands in hers, carefully taking the fanned wrist-guards from underneath the sleeves of his emerald-hued tunic.

When Thor grabbed the hem of the tunic and began to lift it, Loki panicked again, stumbling backwards towards the cot. He shook his head. He did not want to be naked, least of all in front of his mother, brother, and two of his father's guards.

"Darling, you're injured," Frigga pushed a stray black lock away from Loki's bruised forehead, "Let Thor and I help you."

Loki nodded, knowing that he could not escape and feeling extremely vulnerable without the ability to verbally protest. As Frigga stood in front of Loki to give him some sense of modesty as he removed his tunic and braies, Thor brought over the pitcher and bowl. Picking up a cloth from inside the earthenware bowl, Frigga poured some of the water over it and rang it out. She brought the damp cloth up to Loki's face, gently dabbing at the cuts and bruises there. Loki's skin broke out in gooseflesh as he felt the cool water touch his bare skin. He let his mother bathe him, wincing as the soft cloth grazed every sore expanse of flesh.

Frigga was horrified to see the blotchy purple mess that was Loki's back. She gasped as Thor explained how the hulking monster that resided inside of Bruce Banner had beaten Loki into submission. The weight of defeat struck Loki harder in that moment, the evidence of his shame exposed, being bathed by his mother for the first time since he was a child. The rage that had boiled up inside of him for so long was difficult to maintain in his current position. He had expected fury to be hurled upon him, to be beaten and subjected to the All-Father's will, not tenderness.

Jaw tensing, Loki felt the flush of his normally cool skin grow hotter as tears began to build in his eyes. He tried to shake his feelings away, but soon his body was wracked with sobs, muffled by his gag. A soft towel was rubbed over his body, and he felt Frigga gently reach under his hair to unlatch his muzzle. The removal of the infernal device was what Loki had been hoping for the most, but now he desperately clasped his hands over his mouth to try to stop his loud cries from being heard.

"Don't cry, Brother," Thor wrapped his arms around Loki's shoulders. "You're home now."

Lost in his own sadness, Loki barely noticed that he was quickly dressed in a pair of tan braies and a short green tunic.

"We will move passed all of this, Loki," Frigga cupped her youngest son's face in her hands, rubbing the tears from his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "We'll be a family again."

Loki wrapped his arms around his mother, sobbing into her shoulder. He held close to her, comforted by her fingers stroking over his sore back, until his crying turned into mere hiccuping. Thor's calloused hand rubbed over Loki's black hair lovingly, seeming to forgive rather than linger on the slights brought against him by Loki, even if those slights including plotting against him and orchestrating the complete subjugation of Midgard.

"Mother," Loki whimpered, pitifully, "don't leave me in this place. I promise to remain in my chambers for as long as you wish, but, please, do not keep me so far away."

Frigga leaned up to kiss Loki's forehead, "I'm sorry, my darling. You have to face this punishment, but you won't be alone, not always."

That was not good enough for the god of mischief, who was so close to having all of Midgard at his feet; he now just wanted his mother to stay with him, to comfort him, but finally he calmed down enough for Frigga and Thor to leave, carrying his armor away but promising to have food sent down to him. As the cell door was shut and bolted, Loki's keen blue-green eyes adjusted to the half-darkness. The torches on the walls outside gave him some light to see by from the tiny barred window in the cell door.

Plucking the thin material of his new tunic, Loki sat upon his cot, his knees pulled to his chest. He would find a way to escape. He could win over his mother and Thor and convince them to have Odin release him.

_These fake tears have already worked a little magic_, Loki told himself as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

The god of lies was a good liar, especially when it came to lying to himself.

-

Three weeks, by Loki's estimation, had passed. He was growing ever more frustrated with each passing second. Loki screamed and raged and cursed and kicked at the walls. The cell itself nullified all his powers and abilities, including his godly strength. He had learned that when he earned himself a sprained ankle from kicking the door to his cell. His ankle healed quickly enough, but it added to his plight.

Frigga and Thor visited him almost daily, sometimes for hours in one sitting. Frigga brought him books from the library, nothing magical, merely histories of their realm and beyond. Occasionally, Frigga would read to him, letting him lay his head in her lap as he had done when he was a boy. Why had he forgotten his mother in his anger? Loki thought upon how strange he felt when he killed Laufey, his true father, in order to play the hero. Frigga had run to him, hugged him, her eyes shining with pride and love. She had told him he was a king, and she was who allowed him to be one; she did not try to take it for herself or remind him that his reign would be over the moment Odin awakened. She had simply bowed her head to her son, adopted though he was, and reassured him with, "My king."

Loki kicked at the blankets on his bed, not wanting to think about those memories nor did he want to relive what came after. His own feelings caused him to be conflicted, and he felt as though his own mind was driving him insane. He found himself with the same emotions when Thor had visited. Thor had been the one to usually bring him his meals. The oaf would sit at one end of the feather mattress, making it sink under his muscular frame, as Loki ate. It seemed as though Thor only wanted to reminisce about their childhood. Thor spoke of when they would play games, running about the castle and creating innocent mischief. Loki sullenly realized that Thor would stop short of their teenaged years, when Loki abandoned the training arena for his magical studies; that was when he and Thor had the wedge driven between them. How curious it was that Thor did not realize the wedge was even there until his banishment.

_How could he not realize?_ Loki lamented privately. _He, who was always belittling my spells, even though I was just beginning! I never mocked him when we trained, even when he was knocked onto his rear. I cheered the loudest for him, and he never returned the favor._

Yet, Loki knew his own words were false. Thor had cheered for him when it was something that the blonde could understand, such as fighting, archery, or swordfighting. Deep down, he knew Thor jested about his spellcraft because he could not grasp that what Loki could conjure were more than just parlor tricks. However, that did not stop one's feelings from being hurt.

The door opened, and Loki sat up straighter on the bed, trying to look less pathetic than he felt. Thor held the door, and a female figure entered. Loki tilted his head as he stared at the beautiful Idunn, her glossy blonde hair plaited and rolled on either side of her head, as she held her casket under her arm. Loki found an anxious knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

"What is she doing here?" Loki asked, suspiciously, motioning towards Idunn.

Thor spoke matter-of-factly, "Do you want to leave this cell?"

"Yes, of course," came the reply.

"Then you'll need to start eating," Idunn said with a sigh, holding out the casket to Loki.

The wicker casket was filled with the glistening golden apples that held the secret of the Asgardian gods' eternal youth. If anyone was not willingly given an apple by Idunn herself, it would lose all its mystical properties. Loki stared at the apples incredulously. Prior to his descent into Midgard, he had eaten at least one of the delicious fruits every day since he reached maturity. Loki had learned the hard way that letting the scrumptious taste of the apples get the better of his appetite could have dire consequences, resulting in him almost having to go through puberty twice when he was still actually young and innocent.

_Innocent… _

Loki's eyes went wide, "You can't mean you want me to eat all of these? Do you understand what these would do to me?"

"I do understand, Brother. You would be returned to a time when no one could find fault in you," Thor replied.

"You cannot turn back time, you idiot," Loki fumed. "You cannot take back the horrible crimes I've committed or the bargains I've struck. You seek to turn me into a child in order to make me even more vulnerable than I already am!"

Thor laid his huge hand on Loki's shoulder, "This is the only way for you to be released. Can't you see? Father would not keep a child in the dungeons, and none of the Æsir would begrudge a little boy the mistakes of his older self."

Loki wished that the slate could be wiped clean so easily, "Eating that fruit does not make me forget; it will not change who— what I am…"

"But it will give you the time to change, Loki. You can have all the time you need to allow wounds to heal, to try to make amends for your wickedness," Thor spoke earnestly. "Please, is it not worth it to try?"

Glancing back towards the casket in Idunn's hands, Loki reached with shaking fingers and picked up the largest fruit. As he sunk his teeth in the crisp apple, feeling the sweet juice flow down his throat, Loki thought to himself, _This may be a way to get what I want, after all. I can still fool them. Indeed, who would suspect a child of what damage I can create?_

Though Loki was thousands of years old, his physical age had been arrested by Idunn's magic somewhere between his twentieth and thirtieth year. By the time Loki had stripped the second apple to the core, he felt his body begin to change. His limbs ached slightly, particularly his long legs, as they shortened. At the fourth apple, Loki felt the muscles in his chest and abdomen begin to disappear, replaced by baby fat. His feet no longer touched the floor, getting closer to the edge of the cot with each bite. Every time Loki reached into the casket, it seemed to grow in size, as did the apples themselves, as his hands and mouth got smaller and smaller. Before too long, Thor had to help Loki hold the fruit as his tunic was swallowing up his arms entirely. Finally, Loki went to take a bite but found he could not, as most of his teeth had disappeared back into his gums.

Looking down at his body, entirely covered by his tunic alone, Loki began to fuss. He balled up his tiny fists to his eyes and let out a high-pitched wail.

"There, there, little one," Thor said, trying to comfort his now _very_ little brother.

With a voice that sounded entirely alien to him, Loki sobbed out a barely intelligible, "Brother!" as he held his arms out to Thor.

Thor scooped up the crying child in his arms and held him protectively to his chest, "There's nothing to fear. No one's going to harm you, Loki. I'll look after you."

Idunn held the casket against her hip, smiling at the pair as Thor rocked Loki and stroked his beautiful dark curls, "I remember when he first looked like that."

"Really?" Thor held up Loki to get a better look at his face to see if he too could recall his brother being so small.

"Yes, he was quite the little jewel before he learned to talk so much," Idunn said as she took her leave of the cell.

Thor kissed Loki's hair as he felt his brother relax in his arms, his cries now reduced to sniffling, "Would you like to see Mother and Father, Loki?"

Loki nodded, not truly sure of what he wanted. He was not even certain of why he was crying or why he felt so safe resting against Thor's chest. There seemed to have been a huge weight lifted from Loki's shoulders as Thor carried him away from the cell, keeping him wrapped tightly in his tunic. Thor would glance down at him every few moments, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

Perhaps, they could be a family again after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

From the very first day Loki began to study magic, he learned that concentration was one of the foremost requirements to mastering any type of spellcraft. Whether memorizing just the right enunciation of a word for an incantation or brewing a draught with its ingredients prepared for maximum potency, one's mind had to remain focused as sharply as a razor's edge. The second-most important requirement was patience, and Loki remained in perpetually short supply of it as of late. Loki had resigned himself to relearning basic activities now that his form had been reduced to that of a toddler. As much grace and dignity as he tried to retain, he felt as though he was making a fool of himself.

Mother and son were sitting in the palace nursery at a circular table, laden with food appropriate for a boy Loki's size- bowls of warm spiced porridge, small fruits, and meats, breads, and cheeses cut small enough for a child's fingers to grip. Using both hands, Loki slowly and carefully brought a little golden cup of honeyed goat's milk to his lips. Just as he got a taste of the milk on his tongue, he accidentally tilted the cup too far backwards, splashing himself in the face. Frigga was quick to take the cup away from him and gently wipe his face with a cloth. Loki sputtered, feeling a few tears well up in his eyes. He was ashamed by how easy it was for every setback to make him cry. He supposed that, as his body regressed, so did his emotions and ability to maintain them.

"It's all right, darling," Frigga picked up her child and sat him on her lap, kissing his forehead. When Loki calmed down sufficiently, she handed the golden cup back to him, "Try again."

Frigga had estimated that Loki's new age was somewhere between one and two years old. Loki could speak in short bursts of a few words, though sometimes it was obvious that the words that came out of his mouth were not what he wished to say or how he wished to pronounce them. He could walk slowly, but he was prone to falling over himself. As far as outward appearances, none of the other Asgardians had any reason to doubt that Loki was anything other than a normal godling prince, which suited Odin, Frigga, and Thor's hopes. They had announced to the realm that Loki's regression was part of the punishment for his misdeeds; however, none, besides themselves and Idunn, knew that the regression only extended to Loki's body and not his mind. Loki felt that the effect of Idunn's apples leaving his mind and memories intact was a far worse punishment than simply making him a child, ignorant of the evil that had transpired and the ill-feelings it created in those around him.

Two weeks in his new form and being mostly confined to the nursery had brought Loki no closer to accepting this as his fate, to re-mature and to _forget_ the wrongs done to him by all of Asgard. He allowed himself to be dressed in undignified clothing, the brightly colored tunics and matching boots that his mother picked out for him that made him feel more like a doll than a god. Loki vowed he would get stronger and find a way to get his powers back, but, until then, he had to endure being treated as a small child.

Loki reached out his hands and grasped the cup's handles. Unsettled by his own thoughts, he held on too tightly, and his arms began to shake, and he had to let Frigga hold it for him as he drank.

"Your body will retrain itself for all the activities that now frustrate you," Frigga reassured him. "You'll be able to run and cut your food for yourself, but it will take time."

"No," Loki replied sullenly.

What he truly wanted to say was, "No, I believe you will keep me this way forever, useless, powerless, and weak," yet all that exited his mouth in his tiny voice was a petulant "no."

Smiling, Frigga put the cup on the table and then wrapped her son in a hug, "You must have some faith in me, Loki. Though much time has passed since your father brought you to me, I remember very clearly the milestones of your life- your first words, your first steps, everything."

Loki squirmed against her, trying to slide from under her arms, "Down."

"Will you have to relearn your manners too?" Frigga admonished, preventing Loki from falling off her lap.

With an annoyed huff, Loki responded, "Down, please!"

Perhaps being more indulgent than she should have been, given the circumstances, Frigga placed Loki on his booted feet by her chair. He wobbled the moment her hands were no longer holding onto him. Catching himself on Frigga's gown, Loki held himself upright before he was able to take a step away. No matter how many times Frigga tried to coax him not to, Loki refused to stop attempting to walk as he was accustomed, but a toddler's legs were not meant to perform a regal gait. Loki, who was used to taking long strides, was soon getting too far ahead of himself, stumbling and landing on his hands and knees with a yelp.

Frigga was kneeling beside him before the first tear fell, but the moment she tried to pick him up, the floodgates opened. He thrashed in her arms, wailing and kicking. Loki lost himself in his tantrum, finding it somewhat satisfying to vent his anger physically. He hated the food he had to eat, the clothes he was forced to wear, and the complete and utter lack of respect anyone had for his privacy. He would scream himself mute if that was what it took to make everyone just as miserable as he felt.

In the midst of this display, Lady Sigyn, who had been assigned by Frigga to assist her in caring for Loki, entered the room and smiled, "Oh, someone is not a very happy boy today."

"No, he most certainly is not," Frigga held Loki tightly to her, preventing him from waving his arms and legs about, "but one must be patient with children."

Finally unable to move, Loki ceased struggling, rubbing his face against Frigga's shoulder. He continued to feel pity for himself, putting his thumb in his mouth for comfort, despite how humiliating he found the action.

Frigga rocked her son and spoke softly to him, "There, I believe the storm has passed."

Lady Sigyn took a seat next to Frigga, stroking the backs of her fingers over Loki's damp cheek. Loki, sniffling and sucking his thumb, reached out and carefully took hold of the long plait of Sigyn's hair that tumbled off of her shoulder. The braid was encased in a cage of delicately crafted golden butterflies, and the shade of her hair flickered between shimmering black and flaxen hues. Loki had always found it intriguing and now watched the colours shifting with fascination, unsure if the fluctuations were caused by Sigyn herself or dwarven magic.

"I hope he is not getting any ideas," Sigyn said, carefully taking her braid out of Loki's grasping fingers. "I do not wish to ever be parted with my hair as Gentle Sif was."

Frigga tried to force a laugh, "Loki is just a baby. I am sure he would never do such a thing."

"Not a baby," Loki replied around the thumb in his mouth.

Adopting a faux solemn tone, Sigyn spoke, "You're a big, brave prince, aren't you?" as she lovingly pinched his cheek.

Though he tried to control his temper, Loki was seriously considering finding a way to hack Lady Sigyn's hair off in her sleep, but, luckily for her, Loki snapped out of those darker thoughts when Thor entered the nursery, carrying an armful of parcels that he dropped off by the gilded entrance. The thunder god had travelled back to Midgard at the behest of his mortal companions shortly after Loki's transformation, and Loki would have loathed to admit just how much he missed his brother.

Wriggling off Frigga's lap, Loki tried to run towards Thor but, once again, tripped over his own feet. However, Loki was saved from a nasty fall by Thor's large hands scooping him up and playfully tossing him in the air before catching him again.

"You're getting bigger already, Brother!" Thor laughed as he sat Loki on the floor next to the pile of wrapped packages. "Here, I've brought you some gifts."

Handing Loki a roundish parcel, Thor helped the boy tear away the wrapping, revealing a stuffed boar with comically large eyes and a bright pink snout.

"We'll call it Hildisvíni," Thor said, trying to coax a smile from Loki, and added quietly, "and you can show it to Freyja."

The thought of Freyja having to hold back her ire, as she watched Loki drag a ridiculously adorable facsimile of one of her lovers around the court, brought a happy burst of laughter to the god of mischief's lips. Thor looked quite pleased with himself at his choice in gift. The other presents included more stuffed toys of Midgardian animals, including one with spots and a curiously long neck, and several books about Midgard's various histories and folklore.

"I will read them to you, Loki," Thor watched as his younger brother ran appreciative hands over the book covers. Pointing to a large volume of Grimms' _Fairy Tales_, Thor continued, "I began to read a little of this one already, and I think you'll enjoy it."

Loki smiled, reaching up to tug on Thor's blonde hair, "Brother."

Loki had meant to thank his brother for the gifts, though the children's toys really held no interest for him, but acknowledging Thor was all he could muster to do; by the large grin on the oaf's face, Loki felt that his brother understood his meaning.

"I hope none of those books are going to give him nightmares," Sigyn said as she watched Thor carry Loki back to the table.

"Nonsense, Loki is a prince of Asgard. No storybook will frighten him," Thor sat down next to his mother and grabbed a small raspberry cake from the table but paused as he looked at it and the other food before him, "This food is very tiny."

With that, Thor held the cake out to Loki, letting the boy take a bite out of it as he sat perched on his elder brother's knee. As Thor began to recount his latest adventure on Midgard, Loki relaxed, feeling less self-conscious about his position, nibbling on the pastry and listening intently to the story. Loki cared nothing to learn of the Man of Iron's technological wonders or the unmitigated bravery of the Avengers, but Thor did spin a decent yarn for his audience.

When Thor took a pause to down a cupful of sweet wine from a decanter and to feed Loki another pastry, a beautiful smile graced Lady Sigyn's face as she said, "You look just like the All-Father."

Thor and Loki both looked up simultaneously.

"Do you agree, my queen?" Sigyn turned to Frigga. "I was simply reminded of when Loki was first born. Odin would carry him to banquet and sit with him just as Thor sits with him now."

Frigga agreed, seemingly pleased by the memory, "Oh, yes, I concur."

Loki glanced up at Thor, who was practically glowing with pride at the comparison. Feeling a sudden pang of jealousy, Loki gripped the sugared pastry in his hand and lobbed it at Thor's face. It hit the thunder god squarely on the chin.

"His aim is improving," Thor laughed loudly as he wiped away crumbs and powdered sugar from his beard.

"Honestly, Thor, do not praise Loki for throwing food like a common lout," Frigga tutted. With some regret, she said quietly, "We are not trying our best to discipline him for his bad behavior as we had promised each other."

Thinking over it for a moment, Thor pinched a morsel from another cake on the table and pressed it gently to the tip of Loki's tiny nose, "You see, Brother, it's not nice to put food on other people's faces." Then, the blonde wagged his finger at the boy, trying his best to sound stern, "No more throwing food."

Loki made an indignant squeak and rubbed his nose with his fist. The moment his bottom lip began to quiver, Frigga quickly grabbed him from Thor's lap before another fit began. The All-Mother grabbed the cloth she had earlier used to wipe Loki's face and dabbed the powdered sugar from his nose. For his part, Loki turned his head from side to side as he struggled not to let any further tears fall. He grew weary from crying so much; surely, normal children did not cry as he did.

"Loki, do not fuss so!" Thor tried to tickle his brother's stomach through the soft green tunic he had been dressed in, but all the blonde earned for his effort was a sharp kick to the hand from a tiny boot.

Sigyn held back a sigh at the royal family's display, as even the All-Mother failed to tame a misbehaving child. Trying to more clearly remember Thor and Loki as children, Sigyn seemed to recall that Thor was more prone to this sort of behavior than his younger brother. Sigyn herself had matured in a brood of goddesses with strengths in the areas of fertility and love, matters that often brought about children, though Sigyn had none yet of her own. She felt that she could potentially give more assistance than being Loki's maid servant when Frigga took time to rest.

Holding out her hands, Sigyn asked, "May I?"

Frigga seemed surprised. Though Sigyn had assisted her with Loki's care, the young goddess had not before shown interest in helping with the boy's temper. Frigga allowed Sigyn to take Loki from her. Letting Loki stand on his own feet, Sigyn clasped his hand in one of hers and grabbed a chair with her other hand. Dragging the chair to the nearest wall, she turned it so that its seat faced the solid expanse of glistening marble. She then placed Loki on it. The young prince blinked as Sigyn kneeling down to look at him directly in the eyes.

"You are behaving very poorly, Prince Loki," she told him seriously. "You can sit here until you are ready to rejoin us at the table."

Loki did not understand why he should sit facing a wall while everyone else was across the room. It was not his fault that he had gotten upset. Could Lady Sigyn not understand the precarious state he was in? And how her words had goaded him?

When Sigyn turned to leave him on the chair, Loki slid off the seat and tried to follow her, but the goddess would not be moved. She picked him up and plopped him back on the seat.

"No!" Loki tried to kick at her. In his mind, there were more words he wished to say, _How dare you tell __me__ what to do? I am Loki of Asgard! You shall not command me! _However, all anyone in the room heard was a toddler repeating, "No-no-no-no-no!"

Sigyn shook her head, "We are not talking about this any longer. You can face the wall."

When Loki escaped off the seat for a second time, Sigyn held him still until he made himself go limp in her grasp, crumpling to the floor and laying there in a little heap as he whined. She left him where he was, returning to the table and suggesting that it would be best to ignore any further outbursts from the child.

Loki was practically pressing himself flat to the floor, wishing he had his powers back and wishing to be any age but the accursed one he currently was. The high-pitched whining that was emitted from his throat was tinny and annoying even to _himself_, but he did not try to stop it. After a few minutes, Loki realized no one was coming to pick him up or try to placate him. He peered up from the floor at the table and realized that they were all ignoring him, except for Thor, who kept glancing at him quickly before looking away.

_This is insufferable. You dare to make me endure this, and now you ignore my plight? _Loki thought as he pushed himself to his feet. Loki refused to let them forget about his presence. He carefully trod to Sigyn's side and pulled on the hem of her gown. Making his eyes as big and as teary as possible, hoping to appear innocent, Loki pitifully chirruped, "Sorry!"

However, Sigyn turned her face completely away from the child-god, unmoved by his display. Loki actually gasped as she rebuffed his charms. He stared at the floor, unsure of what to do. Figuring that none of them would acknowledge him until he did as he was told, he toddled back to the chair but found that he could not pull himself up to the seat on his own. Loki looked plaintively at the group around the table. When it became clear that no one was moving to help him, Loki sat down on the floor next to the chair, facing the wall as he had been instructed.

_They do not love me_, Loki thought with a heavy heart. _How can they leave me so bereft if they loved me? Can they not see that I cannot even sit in a proper chair by myself? I need their help... _

Though he still wished he could banish such sentiments from his mind, Loki could not ignore how truly dependent he was on those around him. It pained him to be forced to remember that he once cared about what his family thought of him, and he hated himself for it more than he hated them.

The boy was so consumed by his own thoughts that he did not hear his mother approach as she lifted him from the floor. Frigga held Loki in the crook of her arm and spoke, "Are you going to behave?"

Loki nodded slowly and repeated in a very hushed tone, "Sorry."

Frigga gave him a kiss on his cheek, reassuring him that he was a good boy, and returned him to the table, letting him sit between her and Thor. Loki certainly did not feel _good_. As the "adults" conversed with one another, Loki found himself too tired to follow their words. He rubbed his eye with his fist sleepily, yawning.

Thor ruffled Loki's hair, "Are you ready for a nap, Brother? After my travels, I could certainly do with some rest as well."

Crouching beside Loki's chair, Thor held his arms open for the boy. Loki practically threw himself against Thor, wrapping his tiny arms over his older brother's shoulders as he was hugged tightly.

"If you continue with a well-mannered disposition, I would like to see you sit with me at banquet soon," Thor said as he settled himself on the soft fur rugs that lined the creche area, pushing a few scattered wooden toys out of his way with his foot. "It saddens me to see your place at the table empty."

Though Loki wondered how anyone could rest peacefully on a rug on the floor as comfortably as Thor seemed to, he watched his brother swiftly fall into slumber, snoring slightly. Loki let his head lay on Thor's chest, feeling the soothing warmth of the closeness. He was not positive if he wanted to attend the banquets as he once had. Surely, some of the gods had suspicions that Loki had not truly been returned to a wholly innocent existence, and Loki remained unsure about Odin's feelings on the matter. Though the All-Father had seemed pleased that Loki's punishment could continue in some fashion, without his son locked in the dungeon, the god of mischief was not convinced that Odin approved of what had transpired without his knowledge.

As her sons slept, Frigga stared into her own cup of wine, speaking softly to Lady Sigyn, "I am finding it harder to control Loki this time around... and I fear what he will be like when the rest of his teeth come through."

"If you do not mind me saying, my queen," Sigyn spoke, "I believe you are simply accustomed to interacting with Loki as an adult, a state that he is no longer in, a state that he cannot remember."

Frigga mulled over the younger goddess's words. She had no way to explain why she felt trapped in how to discipline her child without giving away the truth of the situation and exposing Loki to further court ridicule. A normal child could be put in the corner, be denied dessert, or face any other form of age-appropriate punishment for misbehavior, but Frigga could not understand why Loki, with his mind still intact, could not be reasoned with as an adult. It was then that Frigga came to a resolution; if Loki wanted to throw tantrums like a stroppy toddler, then he would be treated as exactly that.

"I think you are correct," Frigga replied after a few moments of contemplation. "The only way to deal with these problems is to push my old memories aside and start anew with Loki." Feeling more secure in her course of action, she continued, "Lady Sigyn, I have asked your assistance with Loki in simply watching him for a few hours a day, but I fear that I may need more of your help from this point onward."

"Of course, my queen. It is an honor to serve Asgard and its youngest prince," came Sigyn's reply. The goddess, however, wondered to herself how much turmoil she had just brought upon herself.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

The mind of the All-Father was everywhere but on the words of the emissaries from the outside realms that were paraded before him. The Midgardian ambassador was particularly tiresome, constantly inquiring for updates about Loki, with a tone that implied the punishment was not severe enough. Odin's mind was plagued by regret at his own actions and at his son's, and he found it impossible to concentrate on any task before him nor did he feel like explaining himself to those around him. Finally having enough of court business, Odin stood from his throne and waved off the genuflecting officials as he strode through the glittering halls of the palace.

Odin knew that he carried some of the blame for Loki's behavior. Ever since Loki fell from the Bifrost, Odin had combed through an endless ocean of memories, trying to sort out exactly what had happened to his youngest son to make him feel so unloved or that Thor was preferred over him. However, this exercise only produced recollections of the All-Father's two sons together- where there was Thor, there was Loki, and where there was Loki, there was Thor. The boys were practically inseparable in their youth, but there was more distance between them as Thor found his own companions, and Loki's interests strayed into the mystical arts.

Had the All-Father not praised his sons equally for their talents? Reflecting, Odin supposed there had been more opportunity to celebrate Thor's abilities- the feasting and banquets for his tournament victories or his bravery in battle. Even without outside praise, Odin knew he had, at least, told his sons that they were both worthy of the throne. Thor had simply entered the world first; had Loki been found before Thor's birth, Odin would have had no qualms about giving the mantle of power to his adopted son. It was simply fate that Loki was younger. Odin had truly intended that Thor would rule in Asgard while Loki reigned as the King of Jotunheim; as brothers, bonded by something stronger than blood, Odin had envisioned they could create a lasting peace between the realms. However, in the aftermath of the battle, it became difficult to continue to pursue that course, to risk further war, to tell his son the truth. If Loki were to rule as a proper king, he would have to be sent away to manage his kingdom, and Odin would have been unable to ask his son to give up his home and start anew in the desolate cold, so far from everything he had known. Perhaps if Odin had prepared Loki for such a future, his son might not have felt as though he was unworthy. However, lingering doubts left Odin without any definitive answers.

A high-pitched peal of laughter drew Odin's attention to the gardens. Through the open colonnade, he could see his beautiful wife and Lady Sigyn sitting the grass as Loki ran around them, giggling. Odin smiled softly. Though he had been agitated that Thor had presumed to usurp Loki's punishment with help from Lady Idunn, the All-Father knew he could not stay angry as this was the perfect way that Loki could be monitored and not remain locked in a cell, alone, beneath the finery of the banquet hall. Though he was not sure if Loki could be restored to a state when he was not filled with such rage and hatred, Odin felt that he must try, for all their sakes.

Loki finally felt some sense of relief as he ran around the garden, staying close to Frigga and Sigyn. His "walking" problem had not, in fact, been a fault of his body, but it was mostly the fault of his footwear. Once the tiny boots had been removed to let him feel the grass under his bare feet, Loki found he could move faster without falling.

"I suppose we'll have to find something different to cover his feet with," Frigga said, holding the little boots in her hands. "Though I still believe if he would stop trying to take such long strides, he would not lose his balance so much."

When Loki did tumble over in the grass, he was pleased that it did not hurt as much as when he fell on the hard marble floors inside the palace. He actually found himself laughing as he picked himself up and began to run again.

"At least he's enjoying himself," Sigyn smiled, reaching out her arms to gently hug Loki, giving him a kiss on the cheek before letting him go. "Let's hope all this activity will make it easier to put him down for his nap."

Loki made a very disgruntled pout at being kissed, wiping his face with the sleeve of his tunic as he ran towards a row of manicured rose bushes. He hated how easy some people were with their affection simply because he appeared to be a child. Loki felt as though someone was always trying to hug him or stroke his hair. He did not need their pitiful sentiments because of his apparent age.

"Be careful, sweetheart," Frigga warned as he neared the roses. "Don't touch the stems."

_I wish Mother would not talk to me as though I am wholly ignorant! I know that she means nothing by it, that it is all part of the ruse, but it is irksome none-the-less!_ Loki thought to himself as he looked over his shoulder at Frigga and then accidentally smacked into something solid.

Taking a step back, Loki saw nothing but acres of golden cloth before realizing he had run right into the All-Father's leg. Loki's eyes went wide, and he started to run back towards Frigga, but he was quickly captured by his father's hands. Odin held Loki against his chest as the child curled up tightly.

"What's wrong, my boy?" Odin asked, sensing Loki's tension and patting his back. Trying for some levity, he added, "You seem to be missing your shoes."

Loki shut his eyes, covering up his face with his hands. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Had Odin seen him running about like a fool? Loki felt ashamed that he had allowed himself to act so much like the child he appeared to be.

Father and son had rarely been in the same room together since the night of Loki's transformation. After leaving the cell, being cradled in Thor's arms, Loki's recollection of that night seemed to be a blur. He remembered Frigga taking him from Thor and everyone talking at once, but that was it. The next time Loki saw his father was when he was presented to the court, his regression announced as part of his punishment. Loki remembered that event much more clearly. The sounds of snickering and covered laughter from some in attendance still stung his ears.

"I'm unaccustomed to you being so quiet, Loki," Odin said as he lowered himself to the ground next to Frigga.

Frigga wiped some of the grass from Loki's bare feet and legs, "Darling, aren't you going to speak to your father?"

Loki shook his head. He was too frightened to say anything, and he did not want to have his words come out wrong or in the wretched squeak of a voice he now possessed, especially not in the presence of Odin.

Though Odin was disheartened by his son's reluctance, he continued to try to converse with him as he rubbed the boy's back, "It is all right, Loki. You do not have to speak if you do not wish to."

Slowly, Loki peeked through the cracks of his fingers, his body trembling. He could not understand the fear that was overwhelming him. The moment Loki looked up at his father's solemn face he began to cry, covering his face once more. Both Odin and Frigga were taken aback. These were not the angry tears that either of them had heard in the palace walls when the boy fell or could not perform a task as he wished to; these sobs were quieter, sadder. Odin had worried when Loki was first brought to him in this form that the prince would use guile to get his way or subvert his punishment, but the All-Father knew that this crying was not a trick of any sort. His son sounded heart-broken. Odin jogged Loki against his shoulder much as he had done when he first discovered the child abandoned in the ruins of Jotunheim, but it did nothing to ease the boy's discomfort.

Loki wanted everyone to leave him be, to not look at him as he made himself more of a disgrace than he already was. Odin was holding Loki protectively with one hand behind his head and the other under his bottom, and Frigga was petting his hair while trying to coax him to explain what was wrong. Loki was not sure he could explain. He felt as though his emotions were in upheaval against him.

_Why are they being so close __now__? Where was this before? _Loki lamented to himself, finding himself cuddling closer to his father.

A warmth brushed over Loki's cheek, and he recognized the familiar tingle of magic. He opened his eyes only a sliver to see a pink light flitting near his face. The light first took the shape of a crystalline butterfly before morphing into a rabbit that scampered through the air, leaving behind sparkling wisps of mist in its tracks. Loki glanced over the light to see Sigyn moving her hands to continue the spell.

"Look, Loki!" Sigyn smiled, letting the pink construct hop in the air in the boy's line of sight. "The bunny doesn't want you to cry."

Loki hiccuped, calming slightly, reaching out his hands to touch the translucent form of the rabbit with his pudgy fingers. He could feel the power pulsing from Sigyn's will into the construct, and he was simultaneously jealous and fascinated by it. It was a simple illusion, but the great strength behind it was palpable.

Feeling uncomfortable with Loki being exposed to the magic he was being deprived of, Odin swiped his thumb over his son's cheek to push away some of the tears and said somewhat stiffly, "Thank you, Lady Sigyn."

Sigyn let the shape of the rabbit shift into a little squirrel that gambolled under Loki's outstretched hand as she spoke, "It's nothing much, All-Father; I am just glad that it has soothed the prince."

Growing weary, Loki turned his face into Odin's golden tabard, "Father..."

Loki was disconcerted with how easily it was for him to become upset or tired in his new body, or his old body rather. He knew it was just another adjustment to how his life would be from then onward, but his resolve towards anything was greatly hindered, even the resolve to allow himself to accept his fate as it was. He was so unsettled by everyone, wanting to take the comfort that they gave but also feeling angered that they remained adults while he did not.

"I think it's time for Loki to have a nap before supper," Frigga said as her son yawned.

Odin gave a few more pats to Loki's back before handing him to Sigyn, "I would like for Loki to attend banquet tonight. A prince should not be stowed away in the nursery away from his family."

"Of course, my king," Sigyn nodded, standing, but Loki began to wriggle in her grasp, moving his legs slowly.

Despite his sleepiness, Loki said determinedly, "Wanna walk."

Placing him on the ground, Sigyn took Loki's hand and led him back into the palace while Odin and Frigga remained behind, sharing a glance with one another.

"Are you sure we are taking the right course in keeping him this way?" Frigga asked softly, running her fingers over Loki's tiny leather boots.

Odin did not answer his wife immediately, "I am not certain. Thor came to this idea, for whatever reason, and Loki accepted the bargain. He will now have to live with it, and so will we. We'll not shield him from the consequences of his actions."

Loki quite liked the feel of the smooth palace floor beneath his feet, but he did not like being forced to hold Sigyn's hand. It was not as though he was going to run away; even if he did, he was fairly certain she could catch up to him very easily.

Sigyn squeezed his hand gently as they neared the nursery, "Bath first or nap first, my prince?" After brushing more grass off the back of his tunic, she continued, "I think a bath might be best."

_If you are going to answer your own question, then why would you even bother asking me?_ Loki thought as he tried to glare at her. He was unaware that his attempt to appear stern only resulted in him looking like the stroppy, overtired toddler that he currently was.

Once entering the nursery, Sigyn called for the servants to prepare a bath. As the small porcelain tub was brought to the center of the nursery and filled with warm water, Sigyn lifted Loki and carried him to his dressing table. Sigyn found her charge to be a strange child. Though he would still rage and bluster in his tantrums, Loki was rather quiet, for the most part. He would do as he was told, though sometimes he would look displeased at being instructed to do something when he was not ready. Loki would sit still when fed or dressed, not fidgeting as some children do. His lovely blue-green eyes, however, disturbed her. His gaze was very alert and intense, almost as though he was trying to memorize every detail of what was going on around him. Though she would never question the word of the All-Father, Sigyn had many doubts that Loki had been rendered wholly unaware of his past.

_How horrible_, Sigyn thought as she undressed Loki and placed him in the tub, _if the little prince can remember and not fully understand what he has done! It is no small wonder that he acts so badly from time to time._

Loki allowed himself to be bathed without incident, actually enjoying having his hair washed by Sigyn's gentle hands. He was pleased that Frigga had chosen Sigyn as his caregiver. The goddess was kind and patient with a pleasing face and manners, but her hands drew his attention the most. She had the same delicate hands as her elder sister, Idunn, who had given Loki the apples that had brought him to the state he now inhabited. Sigyn's hands could also wield magic, and Loki's mind dwelled on the way her fingers danced to make her constructs move one way or another.

While most of the Æsir had the aptitude to perform feats of sorcery, very few ever cultivated those talents into usable skills for battle, relying on brawn and brute strength to bring them victory. Loki hated that he was not allowed to use his magic in the tournaments and thus could never compete. Even when he had stood at Thor's side in battle and used illusions to cloak their forms to save them all from certain death, there were no thanks given exclusively to Loki for the victory, no banquets specifically in _his_ honor for his bravery and quick-wittedness.

"You are making a rather sour face, Prince Loki. Has the water gotten too cold?" Sigyn asked with concern as she lifted him from the tub and wrapped the boy in a warm towel.

"Sleepy," Loki managed to say as he was rubbed dry. His silky curls were sticking up in messy tufts as the towel was pulled back from his head.

Sigyn gently rocked the boy in her arms, watching as he nestled against her in the warmth of the towel, his eyelids growing heavy. Falling into a deep, dreamless sleep, Loki relaxed into Sigyn's embrace, his thumb finding its way to his mouth as his other fingers curled over his nose.

When Loki awoke sometime later, he pulled his thumb from his lips and grimaced at the amount of dried saliva caked on his face. Sitting up in his cradle, surrounded by soft furs, Loki noted that he had been dressed in one of the little gowns he hated so much.

_Why must even a child's sleep-attire be so frilly? There will never be a need for this much lace on anything_, Loki thought to himself as he dismissively plucked at the hem of the gown. _I suppose I should be more concerned that I could be dressed without waking. If this was the way I was thusly clothed as a child the first time, I wish I had had the good sense to tell someone just how ridiculous I looked._

"Awake already?" Sigyn said, sounding pleasantly surprised. She held back a little giggle as she wiped the drool off Loki's face with a cloth_. _

Loki contemplated biting her hand, but he reasoned it would not be very effective given that he still lacked some of his teeth. Prior to his slumber, he had thought further about Sigyn's magical abilities. He wondered if there was a way to take some of her power away from her. If he could manage it, perhaps he could turn himself back to his normal state. There was also the possibility that he could somehow trick her into turning him back. Sigyn's sister was Idunn, after all; the sisters could have shared knowledge of a way to reverse the fruit's effects.

Hoping to further endear himself to her, Loki pointed a tiny finger at Sigyn and said, "Bunny!"

"No, sweetheart, my name is Sigyn, remember?" she said indulgently as she carried him to the dressing table, sitting him down on the smooth surface. She then began pulling several of his tunics from between the heavy sheets of protective paper within the chest of drawers next to the table.

Loki narrowed his eyes. His inability to convey himself properly grated on his nerves almost as much as the stupidity of those around him. He tried to clarify, but his words came out just as stilted as before, "No! Make bunny!"

Sigyn seemed surprised by the request, but, with a bright smile, she conjured the pink mist in her hand. After only a few seconds, the construct took its form. It was perfectly rendered from its whiskers and twitching nose to its fluffy cottontail, translucent as the figure was. Animals were what young practitioners learned first. Loki remembered the first he ever tried to create- a snake. Even with such a simple form, the puff of smoke Loki brought forth could hardly be called realistic. It took him nearly a hundred years to be able to perfect casting illusions of his own form, and he was particularly proud of that skill.

The rabbit playfully hopped around Loki's legs as he sat on the table. Pretending to try to catch the creature, Loki was secretly keeping an eye on Sigyn. She was able to keep the rabbit's form with one hand as she looked through his clothes with the other. Her mind actually seemed to be more on picking out his tunic for the banquet than on the animal. Loki was impressed. Every time his fingers grazed through the mist, temporarily disrupting the rabbit's shape, he could feel the mystical energies pulling it back together. Loki's body longed for its former powers, feeling somewhat empty without even the simplest spell to crackle between his fingers.

"What about this one?" Sigyn asked holding up a dark green tunic with gold trimmings to the little prince. "Very regal, don't you think?"

Loki reached out his hand, feeling the material, as he tried to smile to show his approval. As Sigyn quickly pinned him into a fresh nappy (the less spoken of, in Loki's opinion, the better) and divested him of his nightgown, replacing it with the tunic and tying the small golden sash around his waist, Loki glanced at the polished glass of the mirror beside him and was momentarily stunned. He had been avoiding directly seeing himself, catching only short glimpses, hoping to retain his dignity by not facing the truth, but as he lifted his arms to be dressed, he saw what he feared- an ordinary-looking child. Loki stared at his reflection, trying to find some hint of his adult face in the pudgy, dimpled cheeks, rounded nose, and large eyes, but the resemblance was tenuous at best. He felt as though he was seeing a different person entirely.

Sigyn was amused by Loki's sudden fascination with the mirror, taking the opportunity to sweep the child's curls back away from his face with a soft-bristled brush. As Loki watched the brush rake through his hair, he reached up to touch his brow, seeing the action reflected before him. He suddenly missed his helmet. In his teenaged years, he had chosen the design himself; even though Thor had chosen wings to grace the sides of his helm, Loki wanted horns because that was what decorated the All-Father's helmet. It was the only time Loki could remember seeing real pride in Odin's eyes at something he had done.

As Loki continued to rub his brow, almost contemplatively, Sigyn was struck with an idea. From one of the drawers, she drew a length of ribbon and then let it encircle the top of Loki's head, holding the ends together. Before Loki could huff at having a ribbon tied around his hair, Sigyn transformed the piece of fabric into a circlet of gold with a small emerald at its center. Loki's eyes widened as he touched the delicately-wrought metal, the curvature of the gold so fine that one would have believed Nature's own hand had produced it.

"There," she said, seemingly happy at her handiwork. "A prince should have a crown." Appearing pleased with herself, she added, "Fortunately, there is enough of my father's magic in me to do metalworking just as nicely as my half-brothers, if I do say so myself."

Sigyn's half-brothers were the dwarves who crafted Gungnir, Mjolnir, and all manner of the mystical objects wielded by the gods, all crafted to be just as beautiful as they were powerful. Loki had been familiar with the dwarves, having dealings with them when he had to find a replacement for Sif's golden locks. Without enough to pay the sons of the great Iwaldi what they asked, they gave the Gentle Sif hair as black as midnight, as dark as Loki's own. Loki found the change to be a pleasant one, and Thor had agreed, finding the black tresses more appealing than the blonde had been. After growing up in a family of fair-haired individuals, Loki felt a swell of pride and uplifted vanity at Thor's admission.

After glancing over Loki's attire and feeling satisfied that the little prince was suitably presentable, Sigyn asked, "Do you wish to be carried, or do you wish to walk?"

Loki thought for a moment before lifting up his arms and replying, "Carry, please."

There was a small amount of satisfaction for Loki to glean from having at least one person follow through with his commands, even if it meant being more polite than he would have been to get what he wanted. As Sigyn settled the boy on her hip and headed for the banquet hall, Loki tried to quiet his nervousness, but the noise of all the gods carousing at their meal made him uncomfortable. His tiny hands gripped at Sigyn's gown as he hid his face in her shoulder.

Sigyn bounced the small prince playfully, "Your mother and father are going to be so pleased to have you dine with them. I know Thor will be happy as well. They have all missed you. You cannot understand, but it means so much to them that you are here, safe and sound."

As the gilded hall doors were opened to beckon them inside, Loki glanced up at Sigyn, his brow furrowed with uncertainty, _How dare you presume to know what they think. They did not mourn me, and if I disappeared at this moment, they would likely celebrate. They care not for me... except for some sense of duty to an accepted burden. Their tolerance will only continue until I mature, at which time I will be banished to some dark corner so that they can forget my existence._

The boisterous chattering around the vast banquet table never ceased entirely as Sigyn entered with Loki in her arms; however, all eyes fell upon the tiny prince as voices were lowered. Loki wanted to keep his head raised, but the pride had been struck out of him. The gods would only smirk at his appearance now and mock him later amongst themselves.

"Here, my lady," Thor called out to Sigyn. "Bring my baby brother to me."

Loki was carefully handed to Thor, sitting at the head of the table next to the All-Father. Even perched on Thor's knee, Loki could barely see over the edge of the table. Thor placed a small pastry into his brother's hand. Loki nibbled on the sugared bread, not feeling particularly hungry but wanting something to concentrate on besides what might be being said around him.

"Thor, please make sure that Loki eats something other than sweets," Frigga said good-naturedly, smiling at the sight of her boys together. She took Odin's hand, squeezing gently, trying to encourage her husband to try to talk to Loki again.

Odin seemed unsure, not wanting a reprisal of the boy's earlier upset. The All-Father gently stroked Loki's hair for a moment. His touch was rather tentative, and the child stared at him warily. Thor, however, seemed quite content with his family surrounding him. Bringing his plate closer to the edge of the table, Thor allowed Loki to grab what his tiny hands could grasp- a few strawberries and a smidgen of cheese.

"Don't let the little prince get too close to the food, my friend," Fandral jokingly warned. "Volstagg is likely to mistake the babe for a ham."

The man in question blustered, stricken, "I would never! If none of my own children have been in peril at my supper table, then I am quite certain the prince is safe!"

Thor laughed heartily, "Well, I am not so sure. You did once eat an entire centerpiece of decorative fruit before you noticed it was all made of wax."

"Well, it should not have been painted in such a tempting manner!" Volstagg rebutted.

Loki actually smiled, remembering that particular event. Thor noticed his brother's amusement and playfully tickled the boy under his chin. Thor's apparent happiness made Loki feel relatively secure. No one would harm him with Thor by his side, defending him. It was everyone else in his life that Loki remained unsure of, however.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

A light blanket of snow had fallen over Asgardia a few days after Loki's third birth celebration. Odin and Frigga had picked a new day to mark Loki's return to Asgard and his "rebirth," and, though Loki understood the symbolic nature of the gesture, how easily his family cast off the old date made him feel rather sullen. He supposed, however, that since his actual birth was unrecorded, the day he formerly regarded with happiness (in his youth, at least) was just a reminder of the anniversary of Odin's theft of what meager treasures the Jotuns had left to plunder. It was just another source of resentment that Loki dwelled upon, and he had plenty of time to dwell on all manner of slights.

Every day was a struggle to find a middle ground between the ruse of Loki's childish appearance and the reality he was desperately hoping to reclaim. Odin knew that Loki's mind, when left unoccupied, led the prince into either dark moods or mischief, and he and the All-Mother hoped to curb some of their son's by filling his days with activity. Unfortunately, those activities centered around toys, walks around the palace, and asinine games that would not interfere with the masquerade that Loki was an innocent child. No matter how much Loki desperately wanted to read the books within the library or visit his old chambers there was no chance that his family would allow it nor could he express his desires to Lady Sigyn without revealing his true nature.

One of the few comforts Loki had was that he was growing more independent. His speech and motor functions improved as did his balance. He could feed and dress himself, and he no longer required any of the other babyish items that brought him so much humiliation. Another comfort was having Thor to himself on occasion. Loki relished when his brother would return from Midgard, and he could have all of Thor's attention. Thor allowed Loki little luxuries, such as reading on his own and speaking without carefully guarding his words, when they were alone together. It felt so natural and calming to Loki to be held aloft on Thor's shoulders; his big brother had always tried to protect him, and some of Loki's hate and jealousy melted away as the newly fallen snow would, though he knew he would never be rid of them entirely. Still, Loki found something akin to peace when Thor was around him, and the three-year-old prince would have given up all the gifts bestowed upon him by the other gods in the previous days just to have more time with his big brother.

"Prince Loki, you must _hide_ if you want to play hide and seek," Gunnhild, one of Volstagg's innumerable offspring, said as she placed her hand gently on Loki's shoulder.

Thor had thought it best if Loki spent time around other children, and Volstagg had good-naturedly volunteered his own brood. Loki was not sure how many there actually were in total, but he generally found himself in a group of nearly a dozen during these arranged playdates. Gunnhild, at ten years old, was one of the older children and fancied herself the "Little Mother" over her siblings and Loki as well. Whenever Loki showed reluctance to participate in any of the games the children played, Gunnhild was always quick with a broad smile and gentle encouragement to try to coax Loki to join them, believing him to be either too shy or too young to understand how to play. Today's games were being held in the garden so that the children could enjoy the sudden appearance of snow. Sigyn was seated on a bench, talking to her sisters while all the while keeping an eye on the children.

Gunnhild checked Loki's fur-lined cloak to make sure it was fastened properly and then sent him towards a row of hedges dusted with snow. She explained with a soft voice, "Pick a spot and stay there until the seeker finds you. Once you are found, you can come back out in the open."

Loki could not be angry at the girl for speaking to him as though he were a simpleton. She was kind and only trying to be helpful as she would with one of her own younger brothers or sisters. As Loki wandered towards the hedges, he pondered about how he had been met with much more accepting treatment by the children than by the adults around him. He supposed that had always been the case. When he was very small, the limited feats of natural magic he could perform were a source of amusement for his peers, but later those same sparks were called "cheating" in their games. Thor had scolded Loki for always trying to use veils to avoid detection when they played hide and seek as children, but he was never angry about it as the others were. Now, Loki could not even conjure any force of his will, and he was reduced to hiding in the bushes like a fool.

Sitting on his knees in a small opening in the hedge, Loki was not bothered by the damp snow seeping through the legs of his trousers. He understood the source of his resistance to cold to be due to his Jotun blood, and he was pleased that that aspect of his physiology had not changed with the removal of his magical abilities. For the first few minutes, Loki was content to wait until he was found, but he grew quickly bored. While wondering if he should allow himself to be found, Loki gazed up at the trees whose branches he used to be able to touch and the small plots of flowers he used to tower over. It was like the world had been made new since his transformation.

The sounds of persons speaking beyond the hedge caught Loki's attention. He drew himself further into the little niche and parted the branches with his gloved hands. Thor and Lady Sif were standing by the fountain, its waters frozen mid-flow out of the mouths of decorative dragons at its center. Thor's face was almost as stony in appearance as the fountain's sculptures as Sif reached out to him.

"I do not mean to upset thee," Sif said, her expression serious, "but I wish you would be honest with your friends."

Thor broke his gaze with hers, "I am not upset, Sif, but I find myself offended on my brother's behalf."

"It is obvious that Loki poses no threat, and no one thinks of him as such," Sif continued, "but can you vow that Loki does not remain of the mind he used to possess? He does not behave as a child. A child should be happy occasionally, especially after receiving so many gifts. Not once did Loki smile during his own celebration."

"He was merely confused by all the attention," Thor responded, still not able to meet her imploring eyes. "He is not as gregarious as he once was. I suspect there are many changes in him that will make him different from the Loki we knew."

Sif's brow furrowed, "You are just as horrible a liar as Loki was skilled." She moved closer to Thor and spoke very quietly, "If you will not tell me the whole of the matter, at least promise that he poses no danger, that he will not attempt to hurt you again."

Loki found himself holding his breath, waiting for Thor's reply. A myriad of subdued emotion ran over Thor's features as he searched for an answer as though he himself needed it more than Sif.

"I love my brother," Thor said, the words almost lost on a shrill gust of icy wind.

"I have never doubted that-"

Thor shook his head, "No, but _he_ did. We must now repair what was broken. I have to assure him that the trust and love he once bestowed upon me was not in vain and that I have always felt the same way for him. I will not dishonor that bond by making promises to anyone about what Loki will or will not do as he matures. Those choices will be his own, but I will never turn my back on him."

Sif nodded, wrapping her arms around Thor's shoulders in a quick hug before pulling away, "I would not have expected anything less from you, Odinson. Had I any brothers I would have been lucky to have one such as you; in that regard, it is Loki who has all the luck."

Loki let out a shaky breath. He felt a warmth within his chest that he had forgotten, a warmth that had disappeared after centuries of rivalry and anger. It unfurled like the petals of a rose, spreading over his skin pleasantly. He could suddenly recall more of his memories of his family without the taint of his own bitterness. The years when Loki had never doubted his place or his parents' love returned to him, spilling over his tiny frame, washing away some of the hurt. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

The corners of Loki's mouth did pull into a small smile as he spoke to himself, "I have a brother."

Even though Loki had heard Thor's sentimentality before, something had broken through, and it was powerful. Loki knew there must be a force at work beyond his brother's words to make him feel this way. His whole form was reacting in a manner that had nothing to do with sibling affection. As his fingers began to tingle, Loki grasped at the snow-covered earth in front of him. A rush of energy seemed to pass from Loki's body into the ground, causing the snow beneath his palms to melt and twenty or so seedlings to begin sprouting up from the softened dirt. A bubble of laughter sprang from Loki's throat. His mind raced with thoughts of what it could mean.

_Magic, and it is mine. Perhaps I have been granted a slight reprieve! In accepting Thor again, the All-Father may have rescinded some of his restrictions placed upon me... Yet... What if Odin did not mean for this to happen? Heimdall must have seen... They will take my powers from me when I have just gotten them back. I cannot let them. I must find a way to keep myself intact and find a way to return my body to what it was to protect myself._

Lady Sigyn's voice called out sweetly to him, and Loki looked up, panicking as she neared him. He quickly tried to cover up some of the seedlings with unmelted snow, but everywhere he touched more began to appear. Magic was fickle to control at times, especially for novices.

"There you are, silly boy. You're very good at hiding, aren't you?" Sigyn kneeled down in the snow beside Loki.

Deciding to play innocent, Loki touched the ground again, making several small flowers and plants pop up from the dirt. Sigyn gasped and covered up his hands with her own, holding them tightly. She glanced around quickly to make sure no one had seen as she recited a short incantation. Loki felt the power in his hands slip away slightly, but he could still feel it within his body. Sigyn managed to reign in his powers before he covered every patch of earth he came in contact with into nothing but clover and daisies.

Picking up a tiny flower, Loki smiled up at Sigyn as he handed it to her and chirruped, "Pretty!"

"Yes, it's very pretty," Sigyn took the flower between her fingers carefully.

The goddess was not sure how to react to the situation. She knew Loki should not be able to use magic as the All-Father had taken away his abilities, and yet there was Loki performing a spell, albeit inadvertently, before her very eyes. She had not agreed with that decision. Magic was inborn and beautiful when it was not warped by malevolent forces. It should not be so unwillingly taken from a person.

"I can make things like you can!" Loki said proudly.

Sigyn felt her heart melt as she scooped Loki into her arms and hugged him tightly, "Yes, you're such a clever boy, but this means you have to be able to keep what you can do a secret."

"How come?" Loki asked, even though he knew very well why he could not share the _good_ news with anyone else.

Sigyn kissed his forehead gently, "Because you are very young and very little... And... Would you like to learn to make bunnies and all the animals I can?"

Loki tried to appear only as eager as a child would, "Yes, please!"

"Well, then, we'll have to keep it a secret because it'll make a nice surprise for your father, mother, and brother when you can show them all the tricks you can do," Lady Sigyn's face had grown very pale as she spoke rapidly and quietly, almost whispering.

This was just what Loki had hoped for. Sigyn possessed the ability to train him in the mystical arts. If Odin had given him back his powers in order for Loki to prove himself capable of controlling himself and using his magic for good, then Loki could certainly try to do that. If, however, Loki's powers had returned through natural means or some accident, then the young prince would not simply ignore them. He was finally feeling closer to being his complete self.

For good measure, Loki returned Lady Sigyn's hug, taking a brief moment to stare up at her with his large green eyes, "I hope I can be as talented as you someday."

"Of course, you will," Sigyn stroked his hair, still appearing unsure of the bargain she had just struck with a three-year-old, but she cuddled him to her chest just the same and added, reassuringly, "I'm sure you'll be even more talented than me."

As Sigyn carried the young prince back into the palace and corralled the rest of the children into the nursery for warm food and drink, she felt in her heart that she was making a very grave mistake. If the All-Father found out of her tutoring Loki to use his powers, she could be banished. However, it was certainly better to try to teach Loki to use his powers responsibly rather than allow him to keep involuntarily casting spells which could possibly lead to him hurting himself or someone else.


End file.
